Is fame a fast-track to power?

Fred Thompson's qualifications for the US presidency are more impressive than most. He's a former Senator with a good line in rock-jawed machismo. He was born and raised in Bible-belt Alabama. His wife, Jeri, is blond, nubile and spells her name like a cheerleader.

But what really makes him a shoo-in for the Republican nomination is his role as Arthur Branch, the gun-slinging New York district attorney on NBC's hit television show Law & Order. If he's this good at acting the part of a government official, it seems natural to conclude he'll be good at it in real life. Plus, his hair looks freshly shampooed and he's got great teeth.

The celebrity politician has long possessed an irresistible lure. In an age of YouTube electioneering and prime-time TV debates, it reassures us to know that our parliamentarians have at least made the effort to be aesthetically pleasing. We instinctively mistrust the politician who breaks out in a sweat under studio lights, but a sweet-smelling television star with a recognisable smile and a firm handshake can make us believe they really care.

Ronald Reagan may have been a raging anti-communist with his finger perpetually hovering over the nuclear on-button but his hair was nicely brilliantined and he'd starred in Bedtime for Bonzo. The next thing we know, he's been President for eight years.

Nor was Sonny Bono's conspicuous failure to get a handle on the finer legislative points of office as mayor of Palm Springs in the late Eighties particularly bothersome. This, after all, was a man who was married to Cher, who sang 'I Got You Babe' on the Merv Griffin Show and who wore Eskimo boots and bobcat vests. What's not to love?

But while America can boast The Terminator as governor of California, the British can barely manage to muster up Adam Rickitt from Coronation Street, who once almost got selected as a Conservative Party candidate.

Perhaps we're naturally more cynical about the power of fame. Or perhaps it's simply that Rickitt wasn't sporting a sufficiently toothsome smile or a pair of vote-winning Eskimo boots.